


Auras

by ambicatus_is_my_name



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas/Sam friendship, Drinking, Hell, The Cage, mentions of possession, season nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambicatus_is_my_name/pseuds/ambicatus_is_my_name
Summary: Sam left the Cage with a new sense.





	

Dean shouldn’t have been spying.

He knew this, and some distant part of his brain realized he was the equivalent of a pre-teen spying on the girl’s locker room. But how else was he supposed to figure out what was going on with Sam? The kid was barely talking to him, and when he did he was throwing away their brotherhood. Dean knew Sam was angry about Gadreel but it wasn’t a good reason for cutting Dean off. It’s not like it was Sam’s fault Kevin died.

Sam was sitting in the war room at the table. He had a whiskey glass in front of him and a bottle of Red Stag at his elbow. Castiel was sitting across the table from him, looking even more constipated than usual. Dean didn’t know what had happened between Sam and Cas while he was off with Crowley and Cain, but whatever it was the two of them closer together. 

When Dean had begun to enter the room, just moments before, he had witnessed Sam gulping down a healthy amount of whiskey before setting the glass down on the table with more force than was necessary as Cas looked on with concern. Dean had backed out before either of them had seen him, and was now standing on the other side of the wall, just out of sight. He was fiddling with his phone but had his hearing trained on Sam and Cas. 

“Do you know where Dean is?” Sam’s speech was slurred more than it should have been. How many drinks did he have? Was this late night drinking out of Dean’s sight a regular thing? Is that how Sam had spent the time before he hooked back up with Dean? Sitting and drinking in the dark?

“I do not know Sam. I think it likely he is in his room.”

Sam gave a small snort and Dean felt a flare of anger at that. “Probably for the best. I can’t even look at him some times.” 

“Dean was only doing what he thought was best.” It felt good to hear Cas defend him. It was someone else agreeing that he had made the right call at the time. It was a sign that he hadn’t just completely given in to his own selfish desires; if Cas thought his actions at the time were reasonable, then weren’t they?

“I’m sure he did think it was for the best. Just as he thought making a crossroads deal for me was for the best. Just because Dean thinks things are for the best, doesn’t mean they actually are for the best.” Dean felt a fresh surge of anger at that. Didn’t Sam trust him, his own flesh and blood? Sure it hadn’t worked out this time, but that didn’t mean Dean’s judgement was compromised. If anything, it was Sam’s judgement that was fucked up! He drank demon blood! He started the apocalypse! Just days ago he told Dean he wouldn’t save him! That wasn’t how Dad had taught them to act!

Dean was so caught up in his anger that he didn’t realize Sam was pouring himself another drink. He was considering walking into the war room to give Sammy a little piece of his mind when he heard a quiet, hesitant question that stopped him in his tracks.

“Cas, do you remember what Lucifer and Michael felt like? Before the Cage?”

Dean’s stomach feels like it turned into a complete block of ice. Sam must really be into the whiskey to even mention Lucifer, and this was the first time he had ever mentioned Michael. 

Cas furrowed his brow in confusion. “What do you mean? I do not recall either one of them having a particular ‘feel’ to them, but I also did not spend a great deal of time with either of them before the fall.” 

Sam sighed in annoyance. “It’s like…it’s almost…it feels like they are associated with forces of nature? It’s barely an aura, but it’s almost like I…see things? Sense things? I don’t know how else to describe it.” Sam wasn’t making any sense. 

“I know what you are referring to. It is a very faint aura. It gives a hint of what the angel’s personality is like. It is very difficult for even another angel to sense. How do you know about this?” Cas breathed the question out like a prayer. It was rare for the angel to be rendered awe-struck, but it seems like Sam’s revelation had done just that.

Sam was silent. There was a pause before Dean heard the sound of Sam picking up his glass.

“Whenever I think back on the months where Gadreel was…inside me, I can feel it. I can feel him. It’s like…the night. Dark, cool, calm, but deadly.” Sam’s voice had changed when describing Gadreel. His speech had been collected and measured, if a little bit slurred, but now his tone had shifted. It was slightly higher pitch, Sam’s I’m-trying-too-hard-not–to-break voice. A stranger wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. 

Dean was no stranger. 

“But that does not explain how you are able to sense this thing!” Cas whispered urgently. “Nor does it explain why you would ask me if I could feel Lucifer and Michael!”

Dean heard the whiskey glass being set on the table. Damn he was going to be hungover in the morning. “I mean he was inside me for months. I didn’t feel it at the time but now looking back on things I’m surprised I didn’t discover what happened earlier. The experience triggered my memories of auras from the Cage.”

Dean should leave. He knew he should walk away and never say anything about this conversation ever again. Dean was never good at turning away though, especially where his brother was concerned. So he stayed. 

Cas seemed to catch on to the hesitance in Sam’s voice, but decided to plow ahead in his interrogation anyway. Damn angel was never subtle. Dean almost wanted to throttle Cas for his next question.

“What were they like?”

This was the longest silence yet; the air was heavy with anticipation and memories and questions asked where they shouldn’t have been. Dean was hoping Sam wouldn’t answer, that he would refuse to answer, and he would tell Cas where exactly to shove it. Like all of Dean’s hopes though, it proved to be false. 

“Michael…was almost the complete opposite of Gadreel. Where Gadreel was dark Michal was light, bright, blinding. Where Gadreel was calm, Michael radiated a blistering heat, and was agitated and energetic. And where Gadreel was dangerous…Michael was deadly.”

Sam sniffed, and Dean was alarmed to hear that Sam seemed close to tears. “And that aura carried over to his personality, you know? He was angry that something as small as a mud monkey had pulled him in. He was angry God didn’t save him. His anger was explosive, direct, devastating. Michael didn’t have the patience for the rack, or manipulation. He just…blasted, and beat, until there was nothing left. Over and over.”

The bottle was opened again, and again the sound of liquid splashing into the glass made its way to Dean’s ears. “I guess it could have been worse though.” Only Sam would describe torture at the hands of the most powerful archangel as “could have been worse.” “He wasn’t like Lucifer.”

Yeah Dean, it definitely could have been worse. 

Cas sounded majorly uncomfortable, which was about ten times better than Dean was feeling. “How did Lucifer feel?”

Silence. Then, “He felt like dark cold. Like black ice.” A pause. Then a choked “He was all about the rack. It was probably the only thing about humanity he really appreciated. That’s only where it started though…” 

Dean couldn’t deal with this. He knew conceptually that Sam had been tortured horrifically when he was in the Cage, but it’s one thing to know and another to hear that Dean’s smartass, pain-in-the-ass little brother had been strapped down and-

Dean swiftly and silently moved away from the war room.

The next morning, Dean pretended to not notice that Sam took much longer in the bathroom than he normally did. Just like he pretended not to notice that Sam was chugging Gatorade like there was no tomorrow and how he shied away from the table lamps in the Bunker library. 

And when Dean had that first instinct to rib Sam about the whole I-wouldn’t-save-you conversation, he held off. At least for today.


End file.
